Don’t Trust People Who Praise You - Chanakya Niti

Let’s start with something no one tells you out loud: The most dangerous person in your life is not the one who insults you. It’s the one who praises you before they know you. Sounds extreme? It isn’t. It’s just uncomfortable to admit. Because we all want to be liked. We crave recognition. And when someone gives us that, without effort, without delay, without reason, we take it as proof of our worth. But here's what Chanakya knew 2,300 years ago and modern psychology now backs up: Premature praise is often a form of emotional grooming. It’s not love. It’s not admiration. It’s control, disguised as warmth.


You know what smart manipulators never do? They never start with fear. They start with flattery. Because fear makes you defensive. Praise makes you open. And openness is access. That’s why the person who calls you “brilliant,” “rare,” “irreplaceable” in the first few interactions is not always complimenting you. They're scanning you.

• They're watching how fast you melt.
• How badly you need it.
• How quickly you trust.

Because if it works, you’ll start associating them with your own self-worth. And once that link is built, they don’t have to earn your trust anymore, they’ve hacked it. People don’t just fall for lies. They fall for the version of themselves they see in someone else’s admiration.


There’s a pattern that shows up in toxic relationships, high-level power games, even in workplace politics:

• First, they overvalue you.
• Then, they expect loyalty.
• Finally, they punish distance.

This isn’t affection, it’s identity hijacking. By telling you you're exceptional, they make it harder for you to disagree with them. Because disagreement feels like self-betrayal. After all, they believed in you. And that guilt? That’s the real trap.
Chanakya warned against exactly this. Not because he was cynical, but because he understood power. He knew praise, in the wrong hands, is a social weapon, one that doesn’t destroy your reputation, but your clarity.


Here’s how you know the difference:

• Real praise is earned, not offered freely. It’s slow. Often private. Sometimes imperfect.
• Manipulative praise is immediate, exaggerated, and frequent. It sounds good, but it feels just a bit too perfect.

Think of it like this: real praise lands in your chest. False praise hits your ego. One grounds you. The other floats you, right before pulling the floor from under you. And in that floating state? You’re most likely to say yes. To give in. To explain away red flags. To stay too long, give too much, lose too quietly.


Here’s the twist: intelligent, capable people are often the easiest to flatter. Why? Because you know you’re sharp. So when someone sees it, you think: Ah, finally, someone who gets me. But that’s exactly what a strategic flatterer counts on. They don’t challenge your intellect. They echo it. They mirror your values, your ambitions, your insecurities. And because they reflect back a version of you that you like, you trust them.
Not because they’re trustworthy. But because they make you feel like you’re finally being understood. That’s not connection. That’s psychological manipulation through idealized mirroring. And it’s one of the oldest tricks in the emotional predator’s playbook.


Chanakya didn’t tell us not to enjoy praise. He told us not to believe it blindly. Because the smarter the praise, the more it’s weaponized. The more customized it is to your wounds, your wants, your missing validations, the more it’s dangerous. “He who flatters you excessively is either after something or covering something up.”
Every time someone flatters you, ask yourself:

• Do they gain something from this belief I now have about myself?
• Would they still say this if I stopped being useful to them?
• Have they seen enough of me to even mean what they’re saying?

If the answer to any of those is no, smile, nod, and walk away untouched.

Because the most brilliant people fall hardest. Not from hate. But from love that wasn’t love. Just strategy, dressed in sweetness.

• Be strong enough to hear praise without needing it.
• Be wise enough to question the people who give it too easily.
• And be ruthless enough to walk away from anyone who confuses admiration with access.